


Insomnia

by leporidae



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Banter, Comfort, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Future Fic, Illustrations, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:06:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23134378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leporidae/pseuds/leporidae
Summary: When Ignatz slips into this state of intense concentration while painting, he forgets to eat or sleep. In his current condition, motionless as a statue save for his eyes darting back and forth, Sylvain wouldn’t be surprised if he's forgetting to breathe as well.“So much for coming to bed, huh?”
Relationships: Sylvain Jose Gautier/Ignatz Victor
Comments: 7
Kudos: 67





	Insomnia

**Author's Note:**

> It's Ignatz's birthday so I challenged myself to speed write something in like two hours. Love my boy.
> 
> ~~Imagine if I wrote my sylnatz content in chronological order. Couldn't be me!~~

Sylvain blinks his eyes open with a languid stretch.

It takes a minute for his vision to adjust to the dusky light of the sun’s first rays peeking over the horizon. Outside the chirping birds too have begun to stir, their songs of coming spring ringing in the new day. The scene is idyllic, filling Sylvain to the brim with a warm contentment, a happiness he had once believed he didn't deserve.

However, the empty bed and cold sheets beside him mar what would otherwise be a perfect scene.

_I’ll come to bed soon,_ Ignatz had assured him the night before. _I just — suddenly feel so_ focused. _I want to get back to painting before I lose this feeling._

_Nah, I get it,_ Sylvain had said, _but don’t overwork yourself, okay?_

Ignatz had nodded, and yet it is clear from his absence that he had done exactly that, locking himself in the studio all night without rest. No stranger to Ignatz's almost obsessive bursts of focus, Sylvain shakes his head with a sigh and casts aside the sheets, slipping out of bed and into the hallway to retrieve Ignatz from the clutches of his self-imposed painting prison.

Sylvain’s hand alights on the handle, listening for a beat to the soft mutterings of concentration coming from inside before quietly opening the door and stepping into the studio. The soft light of dawn illuminates the scene before him: Ignatz hunched before his easel, paintbrush in one hand and glasses balanced precariously on the bridge of his nose as he regards his work with an unwavering haze of fixation that's almost inhuman. For all Ignatz praises the Goddess, Sylvain thinks at times the man becomes almost ethereal himself, a vessel struck at whim by bolts of inspiration from the heavens, incomprehensible to the likes of mere mortals such as Sylvain.

As romantic as it sounds in Sylvain’s mind, Ignatz is also clearly exhausted, bangs sticking up haphazardly and the bags under his eyes apparent even from across the room. The sadistic part of Sylvain finds Ignatz's frazzled state almost adorable, but it also worries him. When Ignatz slips into this state of intense concentration while painting, he forgets to eat or sleep. In his current condition, motionless as a statue save for his eyes darting back and forth, Sylvain wouldn’t be surprised if he's forgetting to breathe as well.

“So much for coming to bed, huh?”

Ignatz startles, quickly setting the paintbrush down on the easel. “Oh, um —” All at once his mind seems to register the sunlight and the time that had passed, and his shoulders droop. “Is it really already morning?” Guilt flashes across his face as one finger lifts to nervously adjust his slipping spectacles. “I thought — well. I guess I wasn’t thinking at all. I’m sorry…”

Even after all their time together, Ignatz acts so timid when caught in the act of painting, all those years of self-inflicted guilt cycling back and infecting his thoughts with needless anxiety. Sylvain sighs. “There’s no reason to apologize for focusing on your art, remember? I support you. You can relax a little.”

“R-right. Okay, um, sor— thanks,” Ignatz quickly corrects himself. “Thanks for… for looking out for me, Sylvain.”

With a gentle hum, Sylvain steps behind him, snaking his arms around the man’s waist and setting his chin on Ignatz’s shoulder. Ignatz’s body relaxes, melting into Sylvain’s touch, and Sylvain presses a lazy kiss to his cheek with a smile. “Yeah, what would you do without me? Wither into dust, no doubt.”

“I think that’s a little extreme,” Ignatz murmurs, eyes fluttering shut. “Ugh — all of a sudden, my head’s spinning.”

“I do tend to have that effect on people.”

With a tired chuckle, Ignatz places his hands atop Sylvain’s in his lap. “Well, I suppose you do. But in this case, I also can’t remember the last time I had anything to drink.”

“What’d I tell you about withering away?” Sylvain reprimands teasingly. He slackens his arms and lets go, holding out one hand when Ignatz opens his eyes to help hoist the man to his feet. “You should rest. I’ll get you some water, and then come back to bed with me, okay?”

After glancing one last time at the unfinished canvas with resignation, Ignatz nods. “All right, all right. I’ll take a break.”

Sylvain gives his hand a tug. “Oi, to bed with you! Stop giving your painting bedroom eyes — save those for yours truly, okay?” When Ignatz doesn’t budge, he frowns. “Hey, what are you still thinking about?”

“Well, I just — I don’t feel like I —”

He raises a hand to interrupt. “If you’re going to say you don't feel like you got anything done, or that you made enough progress — don’t.”

Ignatz laughs weakly. “You’ve grown to know me so well, it’s almost disheartening.”

Sylvain shakes his head. “Don’t speak that kind of negativity into existence,” he insists. “Saying stuff like that out loud lets all your inner demons out and gives them power.”

“Speaking from experience, Sylvain?”

It’s Sylvain’s turn to laugh. “Who’s grown to know _who_ well? And by the way, have I mentioned I love when you dish my banter back to me? It’s kind of hot, actually.”

Ignatz rolls his eyes. “Is this your way of distracting me from negative thoughts?”

He tugs Ignatz closer with one hand, tracing his bottom lip with his thumb with the other. “There’s no rush to finish your painting,” Sylvain reassures him quietly. “You don’t have to sneak art sessions in amidst other responsibilities like when we were at Garreg Mach. This is your life now, remember? You have all the time in the world.”

Ignatz’s hand lifts to card through Sylvain’s hair — a bit clumsily in his exhausted state, which is quite endearing — as Sylvain leans in to kiss him. Sylvain feels the gentle vibration of Ignatz’s hum of affirmation against his lips and pulls him closer as Ignatz’s slender fingers tangle pleasantly through his sleep-mussed locks. The tension in Ignatz’s shoulders dissipates as he yields to the refuge of Sylvain’s affection.

When they break apart, Ignatz’s cheeks are glowing pink.

(Considering the warmth on his own cheeks, Sylvain is sure he looks the same.)

“I do have time,” Ignatz repeats with breathless wonder. “You’re right, Sylvain. I’m sorry for letting my nerves get the better of me.”

“No apologies,” Sylvain chides. “You can make it up to me by joining me in bed. Better late then never."

“Didn’t you just wake up?”

“I wouldn’t mind going back to sleep for a while,” Sylvain says. “I have no pressing matters to attend to either, you know.”

“I suppose we both have time,” Ignatz says, with such fondness and a smile so sincere that Sylvain can’t help but be overwhelmed by fondness.

“Yes, I suppose we do.”

  


**Author's Note:**

> [Polux](https://twitter.com/HyakunanaArts) continues to enable — I mean inspire me. Go give her ~~enabling~~ [Ignatz birthday art](https://twitter.com/HyakunanaArts/status/1238521891201191937) love too.
> 
> Edit: Crying in the club because [Polux](https://twitter.com/HyakunanaArts) [also illustrated this fic for my own birthday.](https://twitter.com/HyakunanaArts/status/1293944861410963457) My biggest 😭 ever. Thank you friend.


End file.
